


Prison Visit

by xenoplush



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: Jail, M/M, One Shot, Short, Short One Shot, visiting in jail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15286665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenoplush/pseuds/xenoplush
Summary: Prompt: holding hands (not technically fulfilled)650 wordsBart visits Bob in jail





	Prison Visit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cartoonwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonwolf/gifts).



> A short thing I didn't plan to post here. I wrote it for pillowfort but some of the people on there are. Shit. soooooo.... enjoy this short thing i guess??? it was writing practice  
> there wasn't a title 4 it originally so asfjdgjl

 

It made sense, really. The stress of a near-death experience shared between two is sure to form some sort of connection between a pair. That, combined with the fact they'd saved each other's lives, served as an explanation for Bart's first visit. The subsequent ones as well. But he'd been visiting him for two months, now. He'd expected the boy to tire of it eventually, but each week he showed up at the phone booth, and talked to him from the other side of the glass. Sometimes, he'd even visit multiple times a week. He'd told the boy that there was really no need, especially considering their past. Bart had just shaken his head, said no, and carried on the conversation where they'd left off. He'd brought it up a few more times, but the boy was stubborn, so he eventually dropped it. He was, after all, glad to see the boy. Glad to know that someone cared, was invested in his situation enough to provide him with company.

Of course, he'd received his fair share of flack for the visits, mostly from Cecil. He didn't understand how he managed to so openly welcome the visits of the boy he'd previously declared his arch-nemesis. Then again, he’d been unable to reconcile with his own brother for accepting a job, so he could hardly expect him to understand how Bart and he were able to reconcile their much more complex relationship. He expressed this to Cecil, who promptly scoffed and told him he had no idea what he was on about. There was a knock on the door, and a guard informed him he had a visitor. He looked directly at Cecil, who just rolled his eyes and picked up a newspaper. He headed out, his burly escort not impeding on his pleasant mood.

When he entered the visitors’ area, he found Bart already staring at him, phone pressed up against his ear. He sped up slightly and unhooked his phone. Before he even had it properly to his ear, he heard his name. “Bob.” Ah, so they were skipping greetings today.

“Bart.” he said, pitch slightly raised. Was this it? His heart sank at the thought but… it had been a while, after all. He shouldn’t have expected, or even hoped that the boy would want to stay in contact so long. Despite his protests, he was but a young boy, with more alluring pastimes to be pursuing. Why waste his time with an irrelevant, failure of a criminal? He told himself he was okay with this. He wasn’t. “I…” Deep breath, regain your composure. Maintain eye contact. “I’d like to thank you for spending all the time that you have with me. I know you must have felt obligated-”

“Dude, what?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he leant in close to the screen and placed his palm against the clear screen. “You’re getting out!”

His mouth opened. Then closed. He blinked multiple times in succession. “What?”

Bart started off on a long winded explanation, but he couldn’t focus on his words. The boy hadn’t just not left him… He’d actually somehow managed to vindicate him. His throat felt dry. He looked down at his hands and tried to process this.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden sound of silence. “Are you okay?” Bart still had his palm pressed up against the glass, and had practically climbed atop the counter to look at him. He started back, then embarrassedly coughed and moved forwards again. Words failed him for a moment, so he moved to hold his palm against Bart’s, the only thing separating them the cool glass of the phone booth. Something that soon, he’d be free of. Looking down, abashed, he looked up to see Bart had better aligned his palm to fit against his own. Finally, he felt able to speak; “Thank you.”


End file.
